The Poetry Reading - Jan. 22, 2023

before it begins

voices sift between the seated

like forest sounds at night

a pair of too loud laughs

cuts through the mumble

torsos twist on metal seats

late comers apologize for

brushing legs to get to theirs’s

a microphone is tapped twice

then a silence

like rain that is about to fall

or the moon about to rise

or a door about to open

or a word about to be spoken

this poem is about that

that hovering moment

air crackling with anticipation

all eyes crystallize on

the speaker approaching

the lectern

if you could stand up here

and see what I see

if there’s even words

to describe it

a look of what . . .

a group panning for gold

or a bit of joy

connection

love?